


Hushed

by BishopDeaconCardinal



Series: Another Monument. Neat. [3]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Chronic Pain, Established Relationship, M/M, Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24293776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BishopDeaconCardinal/pseuds/BishopDeaconCardinal
Summary: Chronic pain from that time he nearly got his whole ass arm cut off flares up sometimes. Mac helps.
Relationships: Deacon/Robert Joseph MacCready
Series: Another Monument. Neat. [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1566010
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	Hushed

Aches and pains just weren’t something people talked about. Of course everyone’s back and feet hurt. Everyone had an additional something from some other tragic story surrounding the wasteland. 

Deacon was no different. He liked to pretend he was because if no one ever knows he’s feeling anything they for sure didn’t know he’s feeling pain. 

His shoulder fucking hurt though. Ached and sometimes stung in a persistent stabby sort of way? The worst was when he irritated it and flared up the nerve pain. 

He found it majorly stupid that upon being tossed by a the force of a grenade, his thought wasn’t, “Oh no I  _ could  _ be hurt.” It was, “Oh no, this is  _ going  _ to hurt.”

And blessed be, it sure fucking did.

There wasn’t really an option for relief. Med-X could help but it was so easily addictive and not the easiest to come by. Stimpaks fixed, but didn’t stop the hurt. 

As he laid on his back and staring at the ceiling with MacCready asleep on his chest he thought he might be dying. 

Not die-dying, more suffering, but he stands by his statement. 

He tried to figure out the best way to remove MacCready and maybe try laying on his right side when he realizes he missed MacCready’s change in breathing. 

“D,” it’s a sleepy question, but alert enough Deacon realised he isn’t getting away with shit. 

He tried to play dumb. Fancy meeting you here on the me. “Yeah Mac?”

MacCready laid quietly for a few moments before slipping off Deacon and pushing at him until he rolled over. 

“Mac, I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“Oh come on, “he huffed as MacCready forced his shirt off, “Everyone lies about that. Are you ok? Yes. Of course I am. I’m so good-”

He hissed through his teeth when MacCready’s fingers pressed right next to his shoulder blade. “D?”

His fingers worked the muscle, restlessly into the sore spots. Deacon could cry. “Hmm?” is the most he can manage. 

“Shut the hell up.”

“Language-ah, fuck.” 

MacCready’s fingers are slim but his hands are strong. He worked his fingertips into the meat of Deacon’s shoulder but avoided the scar. Pressing on it achieves nothing, and works his way agonizingly slowly towards his bicep. He worked the muscle carefully, pushing where Deacon sighs and relenting when Deacon’s irritable noises became words. That’s when it’s too much. 

When MacCready got to his forearm, his fingers felt tingly. Some parts of his arm he can’t feel the pressure and other parts feel like it’s compensating by feeling too much. 

MacCready just worked quietly and methodically, getting to Deacon’s fingers. He doesn’t skip his pinkie and his ring finger but doesn’t spend as much time on them as the fingers Deacon can feel. He kissed his palm when he’s done and pushed Deacon back onto his right side and wrapped himself against him from behind. 

Deacon’s eyes have long been watering. He wiped them off with his palm. He feels more sore than before, some places are more tender, but he knew that it will feel better in the morning. 

**Author's Note:**

> im on twitter if ur into that kinda thing @BDeCardinal


End file.
